Breaking from Guilt
by 120shadowlev27
Summary: A Bond of the Hand and Heart: Part 3. Slight AU. When Edward puts himself purposefully in danger on the anniversary of his mother's resurrection, Mustang has to rescue him and impart some simple logic into him. WARNING: contains spanking of child/teen


A Bond of Heart and Hand: Part 3.

This is a slight AU that follows the same plot line as the FMA, but with the alteration that Roy Mustang regularly administers spankings to Edward out of care.

WARNING: If you have issues with the spanking of a child/teenager, then do not read. This has nothing to do with sex, but with the parental administration of discipline that would have been both timely to the era and helpful to the kid. I don't condone spanking as a punishment for children in real life, but I don't really see Ed completely as a child, even if he's twelve. Again, if you have issues with this, do not read it.

* * *

><p>He rapped smartly on the door of the large house, put his hand back in his pocket, and waited. The Tucker estate was unnaturally quiet considering its usual inhabitants tended to yelling, squealing, and barking. The door opened after a few minutes to the seven foot suit of metal.<p>

"Oh, Mustang, I'm glad you came," Al said softly, his voice conveying worry and anxiety despite the lack of emotion he could portray on his face. Nina was wrapped around him, as if knowing something was amiss. Alexander leaned against his leg. Al, despite his inability to actually feel, seemed to require the contact.

"I know what day it is and I figured that you two didn't want to be alone," Mustang murmured knowingly, "but what seems to be the problem?"

"He left, and I don't know where he is," Al said hastily, "He does this every year, but I'm worried because we're not in Rizembool where I know how to find him and stop him."

Mustang's eyes widened for a split second before narrowing, "What does he usually do at this time of year?" Al looked downcast, but his worry for his brother overwhelmed his sense of secrecy.

"He finds a fight of some sort, and in Rizembool it's with either the feral dogs or the drunks," Al said hastily, "I don't know where to look for him in Central, and there's so much out there."

Mustang stepped inside hastily to the phone and called in to the office. He was going to find this kid and knock some sense into him before someone else did it.

Ed wandered the dark alleyways; mind adrift in guilt and memories. No matter how hard he tried, his mind couldn't deny the image of the thing he had created, of his brother dissolving into the light. He couldn't bear to look at Al today, of all days, because he felt so guilty for mutilating his brother. All his fault. If only he could take it back. If only someone had warned him. No, Al had, and he hadn't listened. Teacher had. Everyone had known the consequences except for himself, and now he was to blame for everything.

Lost in his mind, Ed didn't consciously realize the eyes that were being trained to him and his red coat, blonde hair, and tight pants until a hand clamped over his mouth and he was thrown against the brick alley wall. With a flash, he elbowed the man in the gut, brought his fist up in the man's face, and abruptly received a sock to the stomach from the man's friend. Unable to breath or move, Ed fell to the ground clutching his stomach and tried to regain his range of motion. A foot flashed towards his face and he closed his eyes, waiting for impact.

That impact never came. Instead a wave of warm air hit his face and he opened his eyes to watch a spiral of flame encircle his attackers. Fear lurched through their eyes as they received minor burns on their extremities. Mustang stood in the entrance of the alley, cold anger seething in his black eyes, and fingers recently snapped. He halted the ring of fire and put his fingers in position again.

"Run or burn," Mustang growled. The thugs took the former and bolted off. Ed looked up at Mustang and knew he was in for it. The anger didn't disappear and soon was trained on him. Looking toward the ground, he felt shame seep through his every fiber. A sigh brought his eyes back up to his unlikely company.

"Edward, look at me," the stern voice said. Slowly, he lifted his golden eyes up to his rescuer. Mustang stood over him, the look of anger replaced by concern. With a sigh, the blond took the extended hand and allowed himself to be pulled upright. He winced as his abdominals twitched then sullenly looked up at his elder. Mustang looked around the alleyway and sighed. This was already hard as it was without the current setting. At least this alley didn't lead to the major roads directly and was far enough away that people wouldn't hear anything.

"How did you find me?" Ed asked, staring angrily at the ground. Mustang narrowed his eyes.

"My department searched the city for you," Mustang explained tersely. Ed tensed even further as Mustang continued, "When we located you, I sent the rest home and tailed you far enough behind that you wouldn't notice."

"Great," Ed murmured, "You know, I don't need a babysitter." Mustang let out a huff of irritation and grabbed Ed's arm, pinned the disrupter to it, and pulled the blond bodily under his arm, pinning the boy's arms against his torso. He propped his leg up on a stoop and hefted the now struggling boy over his thigh. He tucked the robe up and yanked the black pants down to mid-thigh, still fastened and effectively restraining the kicking legs. Tugging off his glove, Mustang knew he would have to make this quick. He could easily drop the kid and use his other glove to ward off enemies, but he didn't want to stretch his attention. Glancing up at the rooftop, he noted Hawkeye standing guard with her pistol cocked. So she had decided to cover him. With a sideways smirk, he got back to his squirming and swearing charge.

"You can't do this, asshole! Not outside!" Ed protested, squirming under his arm, "At least leave my pants up!" Mustang hefted the kid's hips higher across his thigh and was thankful that he hadn't slacked on his personal training and that the kid was still so small.

CRACK! Ed jerked forward, wincing. Mustang started fast and kept up a swift and hard pace.

"First of all, I will never spank you over clothing. This is about discipline and teaching a lesson, and clothing doesn't respond to teaching," Mustang murmured as he paddled Ed's behind briskly as the kid tensed up further and further, "Second of all, you know what the rules are. I know that you're feeling guilty, that you're feeling that everything that happened this day a few years ago was your fault, and I know that you regularly try to punish yourself for this. I know that you purposefully put yourself in danger in some sad attempt to redeem yourself,"

Mustang kept up his brutal fast pace, determined to impart the lesson. Ed squirmed helplessly under the painful burning of the childish punishment, "What you need to understand, Edward, is that you do not have the ability to determine your own redemption. You don't have a good gage of your own guilt, because it multiplies under your own thoughts. If you had talked to Al about it, you would find that he does not hold you accountable for your actions. Your mother wouldn't either. Dwelling in the past and getting yourself hurt for what happened does not change it, it only hurts you and others around you. Learn from it; don't dwell. You were a kid and everybody forgives you," Mustang lowered his voice until it was just audible above the swats, "You just need to learn to forgive yourself."

Ed felt a gate break inside of himself and tears that he had been holding back overflow. With a deep, shuddering breath, he sobbed quietly under the spanking.

"And you need to do that without hurting yourself. Nothing you can do will bring back the dead, and hurting yourself will just hurt those around you," Mustang explained, then increased his pace and force to really make his point, causing Ed to squirm and sob even harder, "You could have been severely injured, raped, or even killed had I not followed you because you were lost in your own thoughts and reckless. That would have left Al, myself, and the multitude of people that care about you to worry themselves sick and hurt over your stupidity. This is not acceptable, do you understand me?" Mustang growled, punctuating the last four words with sharp swats to the Ed's spot. Edward bawled and struggled weakly against his thigh.

"Y-y-yes s-s-sir, s-s-sorry" Edward sobbed out. Mustang let his hand slow and rest on Ed's lower back.

"Good, then you're forgiven," Mustang murmured and gently tugged the pants back up. Ed's sobbing increased a tad as the tight pants pressed against his sore flesh, but that was soon fixed by Mustang righting him and pulling him into a hug. Ed buried his head into Mustang's chest and kept crying, although the punishment crying soon gave out to mourning, healing crying. Mustang just held him, stroking the soft blond hair and let him finish out his guilt that he had held dear for so long.

After almost fifteen minutes, Ed finally calmed down and pulled away. The lieutenant colonel looked down at the wet spot of his jacket and smiled vaguely, pulling the coat off and draping it over his arm. He offered a handkerchief to the blond, who took it sheepishly and blotted the wet streaks from his red eyes and blew his nose. Mustang couldn't help but lift the corner of his mouth a bit more at his charge's face. Red puffy eyes made it clear he had been crying, emphasizing the golden irises, and making Ed look adorably sheepish. After a few minutes of deep breaths, Ed's face cleared up a little and the glaringly obvious fact that he had been crying eased a little. As he tucked the handkerchief into his packet, Mustang met Hawkeye's eyes. She nodded and left a soft look on her face for the blond.

"C'mon, let's grab dinner," Mustang said and put his arm around Ed's shoulder.

Mustang noted the lack of appetite Ed displayed toward his food. They were leaning against a gate in the marketplace holding fast food containers. Ed leaned carefully, balancing on his shoulders, twiddling his chopsticks in his noodles. Mustang looked around and elbowed him. The blond looked up at him inquisitively. Mustang gestured toward a buxom brunette with a shiny skirt stretched tightly about her hips.

"I'd say she's about a nine, what about you?" Mustang asked quietly. Ed blushed bright red, and then shook his head, trying to retain composure.

"I dunno, I'm not really a brunette guy," he smirked. The colonel raised an eyebrow.

"Hair color doesn't mean that much when you get older," he said knowingly. With a snort, Ed commented.

"All you care about is how they look in a skirt," he snorted.

"You should too, seeing as how you have such a great view,"

"WHO YOU CALLING A PINT SIZED PIPSQUEAK WHOS ONLY VIEW IN A CROWD IS ASSES?" Ed yelled and flailed, being held at arms length by Mustang's hand on his forehead. When he realized that he was making a fool out of himself, he took a vicious bite out of his noodles and flopped against the fence. Mustang pretended not to notice the sudden tension and shift of hips that Ed put through as he slurped his noodles up. The expression in Ed's face changed from sullen to thoughtful before it was cloaked by a curtain of golden hair.

"What's up?" Mustang asked lightly. Ed shrugged and smiled meekly.

"Just thinking about my mom," he said softly, "I've been thinking a lot about what you said about dwelling in the past and want stop that. I want to look ahead, not back. That's what she would want."

With a smile, the black haired soldier clapped a hand on his charge's shoulder and nodded.

* * *

><p>Part 4 will be up shortly. Thank you for reading. If you have something positive andor constructive to say, please review.


End file.
